


I'll Be Good

by Enigmatic_Stardust



Series: To Become Deviant [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, End Game Spoilers, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Near Death Experiences, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), happy ending I promise, thirium in particular, well robot blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 14:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15559272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigmatic_Stardust/pseuds/Enigmatic_Stardust
Summary: While investigating an android's death, Connor runs into some trouble.





	I'll Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to crimsonherbarium for beta reading this one! Check out their work if you like DBH or the Witcher!  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonherbarium/pseuds/crimsonherbarium
> 
> I was listening to my DBH playlist when I wrote this. The song that came on when I finished was "I'll Be Good" by Jaymes Young so that's the title. I need a better title convention...or should I just do a series within this series of one-shots based on the songs in that playlist? Who knows.

There had been another android homicide. Connor scrolled through the report, frowning as he read. The details were vague at best, but from what he could gather a human had attacked an android unprovoked. The human in question was gone, but the Lieutenant and Connor were being called in nevertheless to see what information they could gather from the crime scene. Since the revolution, they were no longer deviant hunters. However, the Detroit police had elected to allow Connor to continue to serve so long as he remained Hank’s partner. They had been tasked with android cases in particular, much to Hank’s artificial annoyance.

“Can’t say I missed this,” Hank commented, turning down the avenue.

Connor knew that was a lie. In the week following the revolution, Hank had been a wreck without having work to preoccupy him. It was all Connor could do to keep him from staying at bars until last call most nights. While he wasn’t exactly as self-destructive during those bar nights as it had been in the past, the fact of the matter was that Connor had been forced to drive and carry him home every night that week. He couldn’t complain. Hank was giving him a place to stay after all, but Connor did worry about him (and his liver in particular). That hadn’t stopped him from making a few casual remarks though about it, especially once they’d returned to the force. He was glad that Hank was busy again and had something to distract him.

“The report says that the suspect expressed a distrust of deviants.”

“That’s putting it lightly if his social media accounts are anything to go by.”

Connor brought up the man’s page on a tablet, flipping through his recent posts. Goff, Isaac. 37. The majority of his posts were aggressive in nature, calling for the dismantling and ultimate destruction of androids. The more recent posts also called for the president to step down due to her call on the android revolution.

“He has no actual criminal record,” Connor noted, looking further into his file, “Do you think the stress of recent events changed that?”

Hank snorted, “Guy’s an asshole. For all we know he’s been one for years and this is just the first time he’s gone over the edge. Stay sharp when we get to the crime scene.”

“Got it.”

“Is all that stuff still in your programming? The detective stuff?”

“Yes,” Connor said absently, still flipping through the case file, now looking into details about the android (there were none), “While I no longer have to follow CyberLife’s objectives, I still maintain their original programs—my programs I guess I should say.”

“Huh…well I guess that’s good. Just…try not to lick anything this time around?”

“No promises.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’d hoped you becoming a deviant would fix that shit.”

Connor smirked and settled back into his seat, watching the houses go by. Hank was going over the speed limit, but that wasn’t unusual. Connor calculated that they would arrive within a few minutes with his driving style. In the meantime, he continued to flip through the suspect’s media posts. He paused when he found one from a few months back mentioning an android taking his job. _A motive?_ Connor wondered, storing that bit of information away.

“Apparently Goff used to work as a mechanic but lost his job about six months ago to an android after his boss bought a few to replace his human employees.”

There had been a lot of people who lost their jobs to androids. It was even worse now that most androids were free and had higher complex thinking capabilities with their broken programming.

It made him think of the first day that he met Gavin at the station. He hadn’t seen him since the uprising. Connor got the sense that Fowler had been particular about that, scheduling them so they wouldn’t run into each other. Connor wondered if Gavin still held the same anti-android sentiments that he did before it was agreed that androids had free will and empathy. While Connor doubted that Gavin would outright kill him now, he did wonder if Gavin would lift a finger to help him if he was in trouble. He pushed that thread of thought away, focusing again on the mission at hand. He couldn’t afford to become distracted. It wasn’t like previous missions. While he’d never had to upload his memory into another model, he’d always known in the back of his mind that there were backups of him if he died. Now if he died, that would be the end of it. He would be gone. Connor took a deep breath that he didn’t need and looked over at Hank, smiling.

“I’m looking forward to working with you again, Lieutenant.”

 

The two pulled up to an apartment complex on the edge of town about three minutes later. Hank got out first, followed closely by Connor. There were a few police cruisers outside as well as an officer guarding the front entrance. He gave the two a wave as they approached and indicated that they should go up to the third floor. Hank thanked him and lead the way down the hallway to the elevator. Connor waited patiently, keeping his thoughts to himself as they boarded the elevator.

The crime scene was easy enough to find. The fifth door from the elevator had two police officers waiting outside, along with some tape blocking off the door. Connor went first, holding up the tape for Hank to dunk under.

The crime scene was…unremarkable. Connor did a quick scan of the room, noting the android body in the far corner near the kitchen, knocked over chair, pools of blue blood, and the bullet shells near the body. There were also a few pictures of note, a pile of papers on the coffee table, and an open laptop.

He went to the body first, and simply to get a rise out of Hank, he reached out, tracing two fingers through the blue blood. He saw Hank’s immediate look of disgust but before Hank could snap at him to stop he brought the blood to his lips, testing it.

 

**MODEL WM500**

**Commercial android designed for city maintenance and construction.**

 

“Damn it, really Connor?”

“He doesn’t have a uniform to indicate his model number anymore,” Connor explained in his most reasonable tone, “He was designed as a maintenance android.”

Connor scanned the body, taking note of the six bullet holes. It was overkill. In a blink, he reconstructed the scene. The first two shots would have been enough to kill the android, but the man continued to shoot even after the android had fallen, knocking over the chair. _A personal grudge?_ Connor stood up and searched the rest of the room. The papers on the coffee table indicated that the owner of the apartment, Goff, was still out of a job and was about to be evicted. The laptop revealed that Goff had recently reached out to his old boss at the construction site, but the man refused to give him his job back. There was another email between him and another man named Oliver, the latter of which Connor was able to gather was an android who worked at the same construction site.

“This may have been one of the androids who replaced Goff,” Connor stated as he went over to examine the bullet casings, “He likely still has shots left over in his weapon. We should be careful.”

“There’s something that’s been bothering me though…this guy hated androids. Why would he invite one into his place and why would they accept an invitation knowing how he was?”

“He reached out to an android named Oliver trying to find work. He said he wanted to reconcile with him and to work on construction together since he didn’t know anyone who did welding as well as Oliver.”

“So he lured him here to get revenge?”

“Seems that way. Still, it’s like you said, I don’t know why Oliver would have trusted him.”

“Any way you can do that thing where you look into his memory?” Hank asked, gesturing to the fallen android.

Connor shook his head, “He’s so severely damaged…I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“Fair enough. Alright, any idea where Goff could have gone?”

Connor scanned the area again and noticed that there were footprints laced with faded blue blood heading out of the apartment. He started to follow the footprints without explaining, not that that seemed to bother Hank (he’d had gotten used to his tendency to wander during investigations). Out in the hallway, Connor saw that the footprints seemed to lead over to the fire escape.

He walked over and pulled open the window, leaning out—only to be grabbed and yanked out of the window by a large, hooded man. He felt a sensation similar to being punched in the gut before the momentum shifted again and he was tossed over the railing. Without thinking he held onto the person who grabbed him, taking him down too. He had a brief moment where he wondered, _Is this what Daniel felt?_ before he hit the ground with a sickening snap. His systems visibly shook and red errors flashed across his eyes. He gasped, staring up at the grey cast sky as he tried to reorient himself, but most of his system diagnostics were fuzzy.

“Hank—“ he rasped, forcing himself to sit up.

His eyes fell on the man next to him who was already clambering to his feet, picking up his fallen gun. Connor processed this in an instant before he too was on his feet, chasing after him. His gait felt off, and despite his best efforts, he was having trouble just staying upright.

Connor stumbled and slid as they hit a corner. He clambered back to his feet, continuing on despite his blurring vision. He saw the suspect turn, gun raised, and saw the bullets fly. Normally dodging something like that would be second nature, easy to register and calculate, but with his systems phasing in and out he had no choice but to simply take the more direct method of dropping to the ground. The jarring force from the fall once again left him dazed and by the time he looked up, he saw that the suspect was gone.

“Shit!” Connor pushed himself to his elbows and hands.

He couldn’t stay there. He had to chase after the suspect. He had no doubt in his mind that the man who’d yanked him out of the window was the one who shot the android upstairs. An analysis of the bullets would confirm it after he caught him. He just had to get up.

Connor’s vision was mostly red now but as he moved, he saw that there was a pool of blue under him. Connor frowned. How had he not noticed that before? Had there been a second android involved?

 

**RK800  
Prototy—assists human detectives—technological assistance—create a “perfect partner”, capable of integrating—**

_What? But I didn’t sample anything—_ the realization dawned on him in an instant. His world spun with a strange, dizzying clarity. It was the broadcast tower all over again. With the realization came the pain, first in his midsection and then his leg. Connor gritted his teeth and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, sliding himself over to sit against the wall.

Connor looked down to inspect the damage visually. The most obviously distressing issue was the gunshot wound just below his sternum. _Thirium pump regulator…every damn time._ At least before he’d just had the component yanked out. That was an easy enough fix. This time he had a bullet lodged in it. How long did he have until he shut down? None of the warnings were legible enough to tell. _It can’t be long…_ It was difficult to tell what else was wrong, but he knew there had to be more. The fall left him feeling jostled and some irrational part of him worried that he might fall apart at any moment from the impact. Why was he so damaged though? The suspect had gotten off fine it seemed, running off without hesitation. _He must have used to me to cushion is fall. Stupid! I should have checked before I opened the window…shit!_

“Hank!” Connor shouted, or tried to.

Without his thirium pump regulator functioning at full capacity, non-essential systems such as his vocal modulator weren’t functioning at full capacity either.

There was nothing for it. Connor forced himself to his feet, using the wall as support. His left leg was refusing to hold up his weight. He took it one step at a time, wincing as he started to get a simulation of pain from his failing systems. _I survived this once, I can do it again…I’ll be good. I can’t let Hank worry—not again._ Each step was harder than the last, though, and as he turned the corner he collapsed.

“Hank…”

There was no response. Connor started to crawl forward again, tugging himself bit by bit across the snow, leaving a streak of blue behind him. He just had to make it to the front of the building. If he could make it there, another officer would see him and then...what? What then? Who would repair him? Without CyberLife, he had no one to help. Markus's people were having enough trouble with maintaining supplies and even if they had supplies, would any of the parts fit him? He was a _prototype_ and not even a prototype of a common model type. He was an RK model. Connor let his head fall forward, the snow cushioning his temple. He could vaguely see the reflection of his LED in the snow, the red light blazing.

 

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, the snow building on his back before he heard the sound of shoes crunching against the ground followed by a familiar shout.

"Connor! What's wrong--oh fuck. Just hang on, son. Hang on."

Connor felt Hank pull him close and turn him over. His gaze fell on the grey sky above, distant and broken. Hank’s face swam into view, barely visible past the warning messages.

"What hurts? What do I need to do? Shit kid, look at me!"

"I'm sorry--" Connor gasped.

"Just tell me what you need."

"Thirium pump regulator."

He felt rather than saw Hank reach down and tug the buttons on his shirt apart to get a better look at the injury. He swore loudly at the sight.

"Isn't that what got yanked out at the broadcast tower?"

"Yup...same problem. Sort of. It’s worse than last time. I’ll need it replaced. Something else is off too but I can't tell. Hank I don't know what else—nothing’s working right—" His words started to quicken, “I’m scared. I don’t want to die.”

"It's alright, it's ok. Just calm down I've got you."

Connor felt something running down his face. His optical units were malfunctioning—no, that wasn’t it. He was crying. He'd never felt tears before. He knew androids could cry. It was one of the features they'd been given in order to help them better integrate and interact with humans but even so, it wasn't a feature that was used often. He certainly never thought he'd cry given his original purpose. He was a detective android. He was supposed to be able to maintain his composure even during the toughest situations. He'd been shot a few times, nearly died before, but he'd never shed a tear.

"Ok, there's got to be something back at the station to help. Shit just...right. We're going to get up and we're going back to the station. Can you move?"

He hesitated before finally saying. "I need help."

"Right. Of course. Just hang on. I'm going to pull you up now. That's it, one arm over my shoulder and on the count of three..."

Connor steeled himself, but even so, he nearly fell down when Hank brought him upright. He yelped, tightening his grip on Hank's arm. It wasn't pain exactly, he surmised, but the overwhelming wrongness of his systems. Then again, maybe that was what human pain was. He had no measure to go off of, no way to properly define it.

"You didn't mention your leg was broken too."

"What?"

Connor glanced down and saw what Hank was talking about. His left ankle was shifted to an off angle. It looked wrong.

"Oh good. So that's why I wasn't able to chase him."

"Good? You were yanked out of a window and shot and that's what you're worried about?"

Connor nodded, hobbling along with Hank's help, "I was worried I was defective."

"Defective? You're dying and you still managed to chase him how far? You're anything but defective."

"If you say so, Hank..."

He was finding it more and more difficult to focus let alone stay upright. They'd only gone a few feet before Hank finally cursed and simply picked up Connor over his shoulder. Connor cried out at the sudden pressure on his wound. Each jogged step of Hank's sent a new jarring jolt through Connor's mid. He tried his best to ride through the pain--yes, he was going to define it as such--but at a certain point the red warnings overwhelmed his vision and he blacked out, coming to awareness again when he felt someone slapping the side of his face.

"Connor! Wake up!"

"Functional."

"Bullshit you are. Just stay awake a little longer and then you can rest."

Connor blinked a few times, realizing after a moment that he was in Hank’s car.

“Station?” he asked, resisting the urge to go into rest mode.

“I already said that’s where we’re going. Don’t tell me you hit your head in the fall too? Do androids get concussions?”

“Our memory can short circuit if we take a blow to the head. Like humans, the majority of our processing power is in our head.”

“Anything else you having trouble remembering? Talk to me.”

Connor gave Hank a look, “If I’m having trouble with my memory I highly doubt I would know exactly where the issue is especially with my system malfunctioning.”

“Well talk to me still. Tell me about…I don’t know, that coin trick of yours. Why do you do it?”

“Calibrations,” Connor said simply, but he continued on, “It helps to calibrate my physical movements and full mental capacity. Or at least it did. I find it enjoyable now.”

“Any chance you can teach me?”

“Some of the reactions are not physically possible for a human, but I can try.”

 

“Connor?”

“Hmm?”

“You went out on me again.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant.”

 

They arrived at the station far faster than was legal. Hank must have called ahead because the moment they arrived, two other officers came out to help, supporting Connor between them. He noticed dimly that one of them was Gavin.

“Your toaster’s not looking too hot, Anderson. Finally gone and broken it?”

“Did you find that part I called you about?”

“You know I’ve got better things to do than to find some spare parts for that thing.” He paused before adding, “I’ve got some others looking through the boxes still. Most of the spare parts we have are for the other bots.”

“The PM700 and PC200 parts will not work with my hardware,” Connor mumbled.

“CyberLife really left us high and dry on spare parts for Connor?”

“Looks that way,” Gavin said shortly, flashing his badge over at the ST300 behind the counter before heading back into the station.

Gavin and the other office settled Connor into the chair at his desk before heading off to keep up the search. Hank stayed by his side, murmuring about finding some duct tape to stop Connor from losing any more thirium.

“Won’t help at this point…I’ll need more though sooner rather than later.” He sank back deeper into the chair, letting his body relax. “Why did Gavin help? He hates me.”

Connor didn’t miss Hank’s glance over towards the storeroom, “No idea to be honest. I doubt he’s coming around to the android cause. He probably just knows that Fowler’ll kick his ass if he doesn’t help.”

“Mmm. Fowler’s scary.”

Hank chuckled, taking off his jacket and laying it over Connor like a blanket. “Fowler’s a good guy, even if he can be unreasonable sometimes.”

Connor knew some of Hank and Fowler’s past, but at the moment his memory systems wouldn’t allow him to recall the information. He curled up into the jacket, his head nodding forward a little.

“Connor,” came Hank’s warning and in an instant Connor straightened, looking somewhat reproachfully at him.

“I’m conserving my remaining power.”

“That a fact?”

He hesitated, “No…”

“I know you probably feel like shit—hell, you look like shit—but you gotta stay with me. There’s no reset button for you anymore. We talked about this.”

Connor nodded, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“What’s it like?” At his confused look, Hank pointed to his injury, “Does it hurt?”

“I think so?”

Hank sighed and grabbed his own chair, bringing it over to sit beside Connor. He faltered before reaching out and drawing Connor in close.

“What is pain like?”

“It sucks. I don’t really know how to put it into words. You just know it when you feel it.”

Connor was silent for a long while. He knew he faded out a few times only to be woken by Hank’s sharp reminders (“we need you awake to figure out whether the part will work or not”). Hank started talking at some point about different cases he worked in the past. It was information that Connor knew, but even so, he didn’t retain it even after Hank reminded him. He was unsure how much time had passed before Gavin returned, two small boxes in hand.

“This was all we could find.”

Gavin held out one of the boxes to Hank, who in turn showed it to Connor. Connor scanned it, somehow managing to read the model number through the data pollution flooding his eyes. The first was incompatible. He scanned the second one.

 

**THIRIUM PUMP REGULATOR**

**#2886**

**Status: FUNCTIONAL**

**COMPATIBLE**

 

Connor moved to take the box but missed by a long shot.

“I’ll take that as a yes. You’re welcome, prick.” He turned to leave.

“Gavin, wait,” Connor managed.

He stopped, turning to glare at Connor. “What is it now? I’ve got other work to do you know—work involving actual lives.”

“Thank you…for helping.”

He meant it. It couldn’t have been easy to shuffle through the boxes in the storage room, let alone to find which one was actually compatible with him. Gavin would have had to actually do a bit of research to figure it out, whether with the help of another android or his own resources. Either way, he hadn’t simply thrown up his hands. He’d actively helped him, which was…well, Connor didn’t know what to make of it yet. He opened his mouth to ask why he’d bothered (he doubted that simply being ordered to help would have brought forth this much effort) but he found that he couldn’t speak. Through the blaring red lights, he noticed one warning message that he’d been hoping he wouldn’t see.

 

**CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE: IMMINENT SHUTDOWN IN THIRTY SECONDS**

 

Where had the time gone? He tried to grab for the box again out of desperation, but his weight shifted too far forward and beyond his control. He would have fallen out of his chair if Gavin hadn’t grabbed him, his face twisting in disgust and what might have been barely concealed worry.

“The fuck is wrong with it?”

“Shutting…down…” Connor managed before he collapsed into darkness.

 

**SYSTEM REBOOT**

**RECALIBRATING…**

**SCANNING SYSTEM…**

**DAMAGED LEFT LEG COMPONENT**

**PROCESSOR ALIGNMENT OFF**

**THIRIUM PUMP ALIGNMENT OFF**

**THIRIUM 310 LOW – CRITICAL LEVELS**

**…**

**RECOMMENDED COURSE OF ACTION:**

**REPLACE THIRIUM 310**

**HIBERNATE**

**REPLACE DAMAGED LEFT LEG COMPONENT**

 

Connor blinked slowly, his optical units slow to process his immediate surroundings. The first thing he saw was the tiled ceiling and the too bright fluorescent overhead lights. He squeezed his eyes tight, waiting for them to adjust before opening his eyes again. Hank’s pale face swam into view along with Gavin’s. Gavin stood up once he saw that Connor was awake, muttering something about washing the ‘fucking blue shit’ from his hands.

“You with us?”

“Based on my diagnostics, I think I’m supposed to say ‘ouch’.”

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me, kid.”

Hank pulled Connor up into a tight hug, only letting go once Connor mentioned that some of his components were still out of alignment.

“Do you need an android surgeon or something for that?”

Connor mumbled what he assumed was a negative note, “Just need to rest. I can repair most of my components while I’m asleep.”

“You need more blue blood for that, don’t you?”

Gavin was back. He tossed Hank a paper bag, looking away once Hank caught it (it would have hit Connor in the head if Hank had been .2 milliseconds shorter according to Connor’s calculations).

“Don’t say I never did anything to help you.” At Connor and Hank’s confused looks, he added in a terse tone, “Consider it thanks for the coffee I never drank. Now fuck off so I can get back to my job.”

He stormed off before Hank could say anything. Hank frowned after him and then opened the bag.

“What is it?”

“Blue blood.”

“Huh…that’s good.” Connor could feel himself nodding off as his system tried to force him into hibernation mode. “Hey, Hank? Can we go home?”

“Sure thing, kid.”

 

Connor rested in his usual sleep mode during the drive to Hank’s. He woke up once they arrived and with Hank’s help, hobbled to the door and to the couch that had been serving as a makeshift bed. Hank went to grab some clothes for him to change into and ordered him to drink a blue blood pack before going to sleep. While changing, Connor frowned down at the new thirium pump regulator, a thought suddenly occurring to him.

“Who switched out the components?”

“What? Oh, um, Gavin did.” Hank looked away sheepishly, “Why?”

Connor’s frown deepened, “Just…I don’t understand him.”

“Guy’s an asshole, but when he’s given a job he does it. Simple as that. He was told to keep you alive so he did. You can think about it all you want later after you’ve had some sleep. I’m going to contact Markus about getting you a new leg.”

“Don’t bother him with something like this. I’ll figure it out.”

“If it’s worrying you so much you can pay him back later by keeping androids like the one from earlier safe. You can’t help him or other androids out though if you’re not willing to take help. Now finish your thirium and sleep.”

Connor obeyed somewhat reluctantly, his mind swirling with the events of the day. He used to think deviant androids were confusing. Humans had always been somewhat confusing but he’d always assumed that was simply because they were human and he was an android. Now he thought everyone was confusing. How was it that Hank had phrased it? ‘Emotions always fuck everything up’ or something like that. Connor settled back into the blankets.

“Hey, Hank?”

“Hmm?”

“Stay with me? I’m…” he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Hank came over and sat on the ground beside the couch, “As many times as you carried me home drunk this week? Yeah, I think I can repay the favor.”

“I’ll be in hibernation mode so don’t worry if you can’t wake me up right away.”

“I’ll be here. Now get some rest.”

Hank turned on the TV to the lowest volume, putting on the basketball game. The sound of the TV was distant even though he knew his audio processors were fully functional. He didn’t immediately engage in hibernation mode. There was too much still clawing around in his mind, too many thoughts. Why had Gavin decided to help him? It would have been so easy for Gavin to just let him die. It wouldn’t have been murder like with Goff and Oliver. It would have simply been another DPD casualty—would his death have even made it onto the list of fallen officers? He shoved that particular thread of thought down, again considering Gavin’s actions. Hank didn’t seem to think that Gavin had had a change of heart, but Connor was starting to wonder. Hank had changed after all and he’d been anti-android as well. Maybe Gavin was coming around in his own way. Somehow it was a strange, yet comforting thought. He didn’t hate Gavin. He disliked him, sure, but he wouldn’t want to see harm come to his fellow officer. Was it possible that Gavin felt the same? He was tempted to ask Hank about it, but when he looked over he saw that Hank’s head had lolled back against the couch, exhaustion taking him.

Connor smiled, a sense of calm slowly radiating through his system. He watched the tv for a few minutes before shutting his eyes, engaging hibernation mode.


End file.
